


three-day state-wide shutdown

by peachyteabuck



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Mobster Bucky, Multi, Reader-Insert, Real Estate Lawyer Natasha, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-07 07:30:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16849759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachyteabuck/pseuds/peachyteabuck
Summary: a peak into the domestic life into an extremely powerful married couple and their girlfriend during a snowstorm





	three-day state-wide shutdown

You’re preparing dinner, just you like always do. Brussels sprouts, roasted chicken, pan-seared fairy potatoes. Something easy to make and simple, but still satisfying.  Your apron is dirty, you note as you wipe your hands on it. You’ll have to throw it in the next bundle of whites you put in the laundry machine.

Just as you finish up, you hear Natasha’s car pull up into the garage. The whirring in the floorboards signaling her arrival makes you smile. God, you love her so much. You’re plating the meal as you hear the familiar sounds of her coming home: the door opening, the click of her heels, the pause for her to take them off, the  _mrow_  of your cat greeting her, the soft padding of her feet.

When she reaches the kitchen, you push a full glass of her favorite wine towards her. Natasha takes a long drink. “I love you,” she sighs before taking another sip. “This kitchen smells  _amazing_ …chicken?” she guesses.

You nod, picking up a piece with a fork and feeding it to her. “Mhm, thought you’d want something comforting after such a hard week.”

She “mmm”s and takes another bite off of what she guesses is her plate. “You’re so right. Do you know what that douche-nozzle Rumlow said to me today?” You don’t speak, allowing her to sit down on one of the barstools and continue eating with her fingers. “I’m talking to his lawyer about the deal and finalizing the language of the papers, and he fucking compliments my tits. Like, dude, I’m about to swindle you out of millions of dollars and you’re…talking about my boobs?”

You shake your head. Rumlow’s been Bucky’s biggest West Coast competition since forever and fucking with his wife isn’t really a good way to keep himself under the radar of a dude who could, would, should kill him. “Did he sign the papers, though?”

Natasha barks out a laugh. “Oh, hell to the yes. Honestly, all I had to do was unbutton one button on my collar and I could’ve just had him hand me the money he just overspent on a warehouse.”

You laugh, moving onto the couch where you and Natasha feed each other and your extremely fat cat the meal you made. Soon, it devolves in a heated make out session that is quickly interrupted by the slamming of the front door and Bucky’s harsh footsteps.

“Welcome home, dear!” Natasha calls sarcastically, winking at you while she brings the empty plates, glasses, and silverware into the kitchen (that’s always been your agreement: if you cook and either of them are home, they do the dishes). You quietly trail behind her, hoping to make sure Bucky calms down appropriately.

“That  _motherfucker_ ,” you hear Bucky growl behind gritted teeth. “I swear to fucking God, if this job doesn’t kill me, the absolute imbeciles who drive in this town will.”

Natasha just smiles at him, kissing him on the lips heartily. “Oh, you dramatic bastard. Come eat something before you bite the head off of some innocent pedestrian.”

He grumbles but eats the room temperature plate of food without much fuss. Between bites, he rants about his day and the traffic and whatever else he’s been holding in until he got home. It’s a lot, and by the end of it he just seems mentally exhausted. All you can do is lure him upstairs with the promise of a sympathy blowjob to get him to not start stress-crying in the middle of your kitchen floor. Sex is always a good distraction for him, and you love having sex with him and Natasha, so what’s the harm? And maybe it wears him out ridiculously fast and he goes to sleep right after you and Nat take turns deepthroating him.

Whatever. Who cares? No one has to know but you.

You wake up hours later, the only indication of the sun being the brightness of the white flurry outside. This is your favorite way to sleep: tucked under a pile of thick, heavy blankets and the weight of one of the world’s most powerful mob bosses with the arms of the best real estate lawyer in the United States’ arms around your waist. You could stay like this forever, toasty like an overcooked burrito while the thick white snow of the season’s first snow storm fell in droves outside. Everything had shut down in preparation for this. Natasha emailed the rest of the firm that she’d be taking the next few days off - she just had a few things to do anyway, especially after such a big win for the firm - and Bucky had told everyone he’d just work from home. While this meant they both had to spend hours within the time is took for the snow to fall and melt down a little holed up in their respective offices, it also meant you got to do stuff like this.

“This” meaning sleep in and feel the safest you’ve ever felt, snugggled between them in your custom-made bed.

You can’t really  _do_  much in your present position - stirring too much would wake them up. The best thing you can do is plan out your day in your head. For breakfast: Bacon and scrambled eggs for Bucky, a hardboiled egg and a strawberry-banana smoothie for Natasha. Lunch: something easily eaten over paperwork or laptop keyboards. Sandwiches? No. Salads…maybe. And what about dinner? Judging by the pile of papers on Bucky desk and Natasha’s desperate need for sleep, that’s probably not going to happen. Maybe you can coax one or both of them to eat dessert…

Actual dessert, though. Not you.

Well…maybe you.

But real dessert first. Strawberry shortcake? Some sort of pudding? There’s too many possibilities right now, the only thing you can seem to focus on is the feeling of the two people whom you love the most curled protectively around you.

“Baby,” Natasha mumbles into the back of your hair. You pause your thoughts to press your back to her chest a little more. The slight movements cause Bucky to wake, too. He pushes his arms a little farther over you to rub at Nat’s hip. His wedding band is a little toasty from the body heat from the three of you, and it makes Natasha yelp a bit as it meets her cool skin. “You’re lucky Y/N is between us, you ass,” she scowls as she pulls you to her, acting as her personal shield.

“Aw, c’mon,” Bucky protests. “Give her to me.”

You almost crawl over to him (Bucky’s pout has always been your weakness) but Natasha keeps you firm against her. “Nu-uh mister, you can get some of her once you’ve finished the work you promised Steve you’d do in exchange for the time at home.”

She kisses you, then, keeping you as close to her and as far away from Bucky as possible. Her left arm is inching dangerously close to your ass. Her wedding ring is warm, too, but it’s a heat you welcome. You flip over, busying yourself with pushing her white-blonde hair out of her face and kissing her to pay any attention to the bed dipping and the rising back again as Bucky leaves. He puts on some boxers before padding down the hall into his office.

As soon as the door sways shut behind him, Natasha crawls on top of you. Just as she kisses down your throat, you stop her. You’re almost too caught up in the feeling of her on you to speak. “Wait…don’t  _you_  have work to do, too?”

Nat laughs, pressing a kiss to your jaw before responding. “I only told them I’d do specific things, and I finished them all last night.”

You giggle a little, the feeling of her lips tickling a bit. “Is that why I woke up at like, four this morning to you mouthing at my shoulder?”

Natasha laughs, too, nodding. “Ha! Yeah, figured it’d be better to miss a few hours of sleep if I could do  _this,”_  she punctuates her words by plunging her middle finger into your pussy, causing you to moan loudly. “With you  _now_.”

You’re still wet from the sexcapades of last night, so her fingers easily slip in and out of you. The slick sounds and your breathy moans are the only thing that fill the large bedroom, the noises bouncing off of the walls and ricochet in your ear drums. It’s incredibly erotic.

“You like that, don’t you?” Natasha purrs into your ear. “C’mon, sweetheart, make more of those beautiful little noises.  _Sing for me_ , make James hear you all the way down there in his little room. I want him to hear the melody I know you can make. Maybe it’ll make him work a little faster so he can join us…”

The thought of Bucky hearing the things Natasha does to you makes your pussy even wetter. Natasha takes it as a sign and slips another finger in you, rubbing them against your special spot. She uses her other arm to support your upper back against the pillows as it arches.

“I’m gonna cum…Natasha, I’m…I’m gonna…” Your throat feels drier and drier as the pressure builds up in your abdomen.

“Go ahead, my little printsessa,” Natasha whispers lowly. The orgasm that rocks through you feels like you’re being thrown off a cliff and into an ocean…and it’s absolutely  _euphoric._

It takes you a millenia to catch your breath and form coherent thoughts. By the time you can move, Natasha has pulled on a pair of Bucky’s boxers and one of your worn out tank-tops. You whine at the loss of contact with her warm, soft skin. She tsks, walking back to you and grabbing at your limp wrists to try and drag you out of the extremely comfortable bed. She…sort of succeeds; your upper body ends up dramatically flopped over the side, your lower half remains under the covers.

“Nooooo,” you whine. “I wanna stay in beeeed.”

Natasha laughs deep in her chest. “If you find it in yourself to get your lazy ass out of bed, I’ll be downstairs to make some breakfast for James.”

You sigh a little, trying to weigh your options. You  _could_  get up and go “help” her in the kitchen (aka do it all for her…that woman is one of many,  _many_  talents, but cooking has  _never_  been one of them. Bucky, too)… _orrr_  you could go see how Bucky’s doing. Staying in bed isn’t really an option, though, because if you lay down for any longer you’re doing to feel like an over-steamed vegetable.

You throw on some sleep shorts that had been thrown across the room last night and find a sweater for yourself. At the last second, you also grab a cardigan for Natasha. It’s like, negative bajillion degrees outside and she’s in a  _tank top_. She acts like her Russian blood can get her through anything, but you know better.

When you get down to the kitchen, it takes all of you not to sigh dramatically. When you moved in, Bucky and Natasha let you have free reign to do whatever you wanted with the kitchen. It took weeks, but you  _finally_  got it exactly how you wanted it. Over the two or so years it’d been like that, Natasha and Bucky had sort-of-kinda-maybe figured out how your mind worked, but not really. Add that to that fact that either of them can barely make an omelette and they both might as well be lost every time they walk into it.

This is proven by Natasha currently eating cereal with…

You take a sniff of the air and frown. “Coffee creamer?”

“I couldn’t find the milk,” she grumbles around a mouth-full of honey-nut Cheerios.

Now you  _do_  actually sigh dramatically. Wordlessly, you grab the unsweetened almond milk from the back of the bottom shelf and hand it to her.

Before you can sass her, Bucky comes into the kitchen. Now he’s wearing a hoodie and a pair of track pants that just make you wanna suck his dick. “What kind of trouble are you two getting into?” he asks sleepily, shuffling over the Keurig (at least he can put a cup into a machine and press a button. Really, that’s all you can ask of him).

You just smirk at the other woman while you go to make something to eat for yourself. “Do we have chocolate chips?”

“I would tell you if I knew where the chocolate chips are,” Natasha mumbles passive-aggressively.

You roll your eyes. “Second shelf from the right.”

 Bucky is the one checks, Natasha too caught up in her overly-sweet breakfast to notice anything. “We do.”

With the confirmation, you grab the ingredients for waffles and get to work. They help…sort of. You can get them to measure things here and there in exchange for chocolate chips, but you still do most of the work. Once you’ve all eaten and had each had your adequate levels of caffeine, you all end up in bed again. You’re cuddled on Bucky’s chest with Natasha curled under his arm. Music plays softly in the background, something acoustic and calming. Bucky’s singing softly, the vibrations in his chest have you drifting to sleep again in minutes.

 

_my dear old friend / take me for a spin_

_two wolves in the dark running in the wind_

_i’m letting go but i’ve never felt better_

_passing by all the monsters in my head_

As the song fades out, you slip into a much-needed mid-day nap, allowing the closeness of them to put you to sleep.


End file.
